i stare at the document labeled unfinished drafts,
thousands upon thousands of words crammed together,
shift-plus-enters & frantic typing at midnight.
eight thousand, three hundred, thirty-one words.
i am unfinished,
strings of thoughts in an outdated map that i would like to fix,
but i can't.
eight thousand, three hundred, thirty-one words
of drafts, ideas, outlines,
incomplete.
just why?